


lovely, dark, and deep

by langmaor



Category: Jeanne d'Arc (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 06:18:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5857375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/langmaor/pseuds/langmaor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>kiss a lover<br/>dance a measure,<br/>find your name<br/>and buried treasure...</p>
            </blockquote>





	lovely, dark, and deep

**Author's Note:**

> I am only in the first quarter of the game (just got through the Dauphin discovering scene) so forgive anything that may be disproved as I continue playing. These two just really fit, you know?

Jeanne rolled over to lay on her stomach, a task made herculean by the iron grip Liane had on her nightshirt. 

She sighed in affection, looking at the redhead's peaceful expression that stood in stark contradiction to how firmly her friend had her arms locked around her. Jeanne reached out a hand to brush a few stray locks of hair away from the slumbering girl's face.

It had started on the very night they had left their burning village behind them and taken the forest floor as their lodgings. Liane had been close to tears. Jeanne had bundled her up into what was supposed to be the makeshift bed, and the girl had grabbed on to her sleeve and begged her to stay.

When she had finally settled in, the tears had finally broken, soaking through her shirt where Liane's head rested on her chest. Jeanne had held on to her tight through it all - and the redhead had returned the favour, not saying a word when the pillow was wet with the swordswoman's tears, but holding on to her for dear life.

It was the last time Jeanne cried.

The tradition had carried on unbroken every night since then, and Jeanne had grown used to the warmth of another in her bed, grateful for the silent support she wouldn't admit it provided her as well. Even Roger didn't bat an eyelid at their sleeping habits anymore, always setting their bedrolls down close to each other.

Liane's hair lay in long coils trailing along their bed. Liane had always loved both the length and colour of her hair, and although she didn't have nearly as much time to take care of it any more (a fact Jeanne was very sad at. She loved how Liane loved her hair, after all.) the swordswoman was glad to see it hadn't lost its shine.

Jeanne also loved watching Liane arrange her hair in the elaborate, meticulous way she always did, which involved watching Liane's deft, slender fingers weave braids out of it, and then plucking the clips that held it in place from between her soft lips.

Altogether there were far too many things Jeanne loved about Liane, more things even than she loved about herself. And although what exactly she felt for the redhead confused her to no end - 

Liane stirred, shifting to move closer, draping a hand on Jeanne's back. The way the moonlight illuminated parts of her hair and made it shine in some places was truly brilliant.

Jeanne sighed again. She would figure it out someday, she hoped.

Until then, she would be content with what they had.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
